


Where the Wind Takes Us

by WondrousWendy



Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Break Up, Childhood Friends, Eventual Smut, Grief/Mourning, Jealousy, M/M, Male Friendship, Matelots, Miscommunication, Rejection, Suicidal Thoughts, Temporarily Unrequited Love, World of Warcraft: Battle for Azeroth
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-30
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:54:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26727772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WondrousWendy/pseuds/WondrousWendy
Summary: Tandred Proudmoore and Flynn Fairwind have known each other since they were young boys. They used to be best mates, always at each other's side, ready and willing to do anything to look out for the other. They thought they would be friends forever.Yet, as they grew up, the sea became choppy, the winds unruly, and the skies darkened. Neither saw the storm on the horizon, and neither anticipated what it would do to their friendship.
Relationships: Flynn Fairwind/Tandred Proudmoore
Comments: 10
Kudos: 7





	1. Sink to the Bottom With You

**Author's Note:**

> Don't mind me, just banging pots and pans to promote this pairing.
> 
> Shout out to Zath for helping with the story and chapter titles!

In the secret cellar within the hedge maze of Proudmoore Keep, Tandred wonders where their friendship went wrong as he stares across the small room at Flynn. What was the pivotal moment? When did the winds change from fair to stormy? 

Flynn has been gone for the past month. Last they spoke, Flynn said he was going to do some shipping around Tiragarde with the _Middenwake_. Though Tandred told him to be careful sailing so close to Freehold, apparently Flynn didn’t heed his warning.

Something happened at the notorious pirate den, and now Flynn’s in danger. Financially and physically. 

“With due respect Flynn, you could have come to me for help.” Tandred reaches out to touch Flynn’s shoulder gently, tentatively. He’s afraid of overextending too far and scaring away his wayward friend. “You know I would have dropped everything to come help you, right?” 

Flynn doesn’t seem interested in listening to reason. He scoffs and shakes his head, waving off-handedly to Tandred. “Mate it’s not as simple as a one time payment.” 

“All men can be paid off if the price is right.” 

Outside, the summer storm rages above them. Heavy rain drops echo down the small flight of stairs. 

“No, that’s not how it works with pirates like Harlan. Give the man an inch and he’ll demand a mile and a gallon of blood to boot. Maybe even a kidney. If word got out that the admiralty was handing out gold to pirate captains, Kul Tirans would not only be shocked by the decision, you would have a damn mutiny on your hands. Everyone would see that the Proudmoores are willing to do anything for their friends, and that’s corrupt and foolhardy. You’d have a huge target on your back.” 

“It wouldn’t get out that I was the one helping you. I would be giving you some of my personal money, money that I’ve earned myself—”

“You don’t get it. First off, I can’t show up at Freehold with thousands of pounds of gold and not raise suspicion. Folks would ask questions. If Harlan saw I could pay that amount, he would raise the debt.” Flynn stares past Tandred, like he’s in a daze. “That’s my problem. It’s never ending. Horizon’s always ahead of me, out of my reach. Sailing an endless ocean, never to reach a shore.” 

“Exactly how far in the red are you, mate?” 

“Does it matter? It might as well be a lifetime debt.” 

Tandred narrows his brows. “What exactly happened?” 

Flynn glares daggers. He folds his arms across his chest and shrugs away Tandred’s hand on his shoulder. 

“Flynn, you can tell me anything. You’re my best mate. Don’t you realize how badly I want to help?” Tandred comes around Flynn and stands in front of him. He pulls off his tricorn hat, pressing it to his chest, hoping to appear as earnest as possible. “Can’t you hear the sincerity in my voice? I’d do anything to keep you safe.” 

Flynn looks up into Tandred’s blue eyes, and he frowns in embarrassment. His gaze falls away, and Tandred wishes in that moment that Flynn would believe him.

“It doesn’t matter.” Flynn looks wounded. “Bad enough I’ve let you be seen with the likes of me all these years. Born to thieves, now I’m pirate scum as well.” 

“Mate that’s not true in the—”

“If you knew what I’ve done, Tandred, you would think differently.” 

“So you wracked up a few gambling debts. It isn’t that big of a deal. Everyone makes mistakes. You don’t have to work for him.” 

“Again, you don’t get it. It’s thousands of gold worth of debt.” Flynn hesitates and then utters pathetically, “Tandred, I-I bet the _Middenwake_...” 

“You bet your own ship?! Are you mad!” 

Flynn flushes in shame. He tightens his hands into fists and doesn’t answer Tandred’s question. That confirms enough. 

“Tidemother, I can’t believe you would bet the _Middenwake_.”

“I wasn’t thinking. I was out of gold. It was my last possession—”

“Why didn’t you just stop gambling, Flynn? You could have cashed out, or chosen not to participate! Why were you even playing cards with Freehold pirates!” 

“How was I supposed to know they were criminals? We were just havin’ a few drinks in the pub at Bridgeport and then this lady named Eudora brought up playing some rounds—just for fun—and I decided to partake. You know I’m decent at cards and dice, and I was winning, I really wasn’t cheating in the slightest, but someone accused me of it and so I bet all my winnings and then some to prove a point.” 

“But you lost.” 

Flynn swallows thickly and runs a hand through his auburn hair, eyes wide, as if he can’t even believe it himself. 

“Y-Yeah. Yeah I did.” He licks his dry lips and hangs his head. “I begged Harlan to at least let me keep my ship, and he agreed to let me continue to be it’s captain so long as I started doing jobs for him.” 

“Flynn, you could have walked away. It’s just a ship—”

“As if it’s any old ship! It’s _my_ ship! How could you even suggest such a thing! I thought you were my best mate! You’re telling me I should’ve walked away from the rig I earned myself? That I should’ve given up on her?” 

“Flynn... You were willing to gamble her away—”

“Fuck you.” Flynn moves into Tandred’s face and snarls. “Where the hell do you come off passing judgment? You’ve never had to work a day in your life. Of course it’s easy for you to tell me to just walk away, when you could have a ship commissioned any time, any day.” 

Tandred bites his tongue. He knows Flynn doesn’t mean to say these things. He’s not daft; Flynn’s ashamed and feels guilty over his mistake. He’s lashing out. Flynn has a gambling problem, and Tandred should have noticed it sooner and gotten Flynn help. He has to get a word in edgewise before this spirals out of control. 

“Flynn, trust me, you could earn honest money serving under the admiralty’s banner and captain a ship of your own.” 

“Don’t be ridiculous. People like me don’t become captains of navy ships.” 

“You act like the admiralty is run by wealth alone.” 

“Isn’t it, though?” 

“When you applied all those years ago, if you had just let me put in a good word...” 

“And tarnish your name?” 

“You know I don’t give a damn what people say about me...” 

“You have the luxury to think that way.” Flynn sniffles. “Besides, I’d never be able to live it down. No one would take me seriously as a captain. ‘Oh, there goes old Fairwind! Bloke only got in because he’s friends with the Lord Admiral’s son!’”

“You just needed someone to vouch for your character. You have the right to be a navy man as much as the next capable sailor.” 

“It doesn’t matter. I didn’t want that life anyways. I wanted to be free.” 

“Must you make everything so black and white? You make it sound as if our soldiers are indentured...” 

“Some of them are, though.” 

“But not all. You wouldn’t be.” 

Flynn waves Tandred off. “You really need to just stop. I don’t want your help.” 

“Flynn... You’re being incredibly unfair. I would do anything to help you out of this mess. How many times must I say it?”

“If what you’re saying is true, then here’s what you can do: bugger off and let me solve this myself.” 

“For Tide’s sake Flynn...” 

“It’s not your problem. Don’t you think it’s wrong, me always needing your bailout? Always needing your help? Don’t you see how that’s not equal footing?” 

“I’m just trying to look out for my best mate. That’s not a crime, and I’m not going to stop doing just that.” 

“But I never give you anything in return. All I do is bring you new problems to deal with.” Flynn sighs and softens his voice. “Tandred, that isn’t right of me. It isn’t fair to you. I provide nothing.” 

“Mate, you must really think low of me, don’t you, if you think I’m asking you to pay me a debt.” 

Tandred tries not to sound so hurt by the implication in Flynn’s words, but these admissions sting. Their relationship doesn’t have to be as complicated as Flynn makes it seem. 

“You give me your friendship and your time. You make me laugh so hard my belly aches when you tell your jokes. You’ve always been there for me since we were boys, and I can count on you to be there when I need it most. You were there when father died, then Derek. You didn’t leave my side after Jaina was exiled.” Tandred takes a deep breath. “We’ve been inseparable, you and me, but it seems like every time I try to do something for you, you run away—”

“Because you shouldn’t have to be my piggy bank, Tandred. It’s my mistake, my burden to shoulder alone.”

Except it doesn’t have to be! Must he shout it from atop a mountain for Flynn to hear it? 

Tandred’s head swims with thoughts, and the idea he comes back to over and over rings loudly in his head. If he and Flynn were partners, then Flynn couldn’t use this excuse. Flynn’s problems would automatically become his, and he would come under the protection of the Proudmoore name, and they would seize the _Middenwake_ back one way or another. Wars have been fought for less. 

A confession is the price for these protections; Tandred would have to summon the courage to propose to Flynn, here and now out of the blue. No build up. No proper courtship. But the stakes are high. He knows Flynn isn’t opposed to men, he certainly has slept with plenty of them, so he suspects Flynn won’t be offended in that regard. 

“What if... What if we became matelots?” 

“Excuse me?” 

Tandred rolls his eyes. “You heard me.” 

“First of all, that’s absolutely crazy. Second, it’s impossible. Third, did I mention how crazy that sounds?”

“You would be able to assert the authority of the Proudmoores to get your ship back. No pirate, even Harlan, is foolish enough to challenge a demand from the admiralty.” 

“You’re joking, right? Been some time since you’ve sailed by Freehold, hm?” 

“You talk as if I’ve never run into a stubborn pirate.” 

Flynn deadpans, clearly unimpressed with Tandred’s subtle comparison. 

“I’m not running your name into the ground. You’ve done enough for me over the years keeping me fed and letting my stay in the keep instead of on the streets when I was a kid. But I’m a grown man now, and I have to take responsibility for my actions for the first time in my life. You can’t bail me out of this.” 

“Flynn, please, be reasonable. Use your head. You said it yourself you’re never paying back that debt.” 

“You really think your mother would let you?” Flynn laughs bitterly. “Mate you don’t even swing that way.”

“How do you know?” 

“I do. Believe me. Stop while you’re ahead. Don’t need you falling on your cutlass for me.” 

Tandred finds himself rendered speechless by the audacity of Flynn. Who the hell gave him the right to make assumptions about him? All Flynn had to say was that he wasn’t interested in him that way; didn’t have to rub it in and kick his heart into the dirt, the prick. 

“You’re a piece of work.” Tandred grits his teeth. “I don’t know why I even bothered.” 

“Good. Now you see. I’m pirate trash, like I told you.” 

“Stop talking about yourself that way.” 

“You need to be reminded of it.” 

“Well I don’t believe it, so stop! You don’t want my name, fine! You don’t want my help, that's on you! Work for Harlan for the rest of your life for all I care. That isn’t going to make me think less of you. You made a mistake. It doesn’t retract my offer. It’ll always be there.” 

“Well I’m not interested and never will be, so give it up. Don’t need Kul Tiras’s number one bachelor to waste his prospects on a fake union.” 

_Who said anything about it being fake?_ Tandred wants to say, but the rejection is very loud and clear. Even though he realizes that Flynn isn’t himself, that he’s only lashing out because he’s scared and ashamed, it still hurts. Flynn doesn’t believe he’s serious. Tandred would do anything to protect Flynn, but he also _wants_ Flynn. 

The feeling isn’t mutual. 

“Fine, if that’s how you feel. I’m sorry I couldn’t be of more help.”

“Don’t be. You can’t help me and even if you could I don’t want your charity. I don’t need you.” 

“Well good,” Tandred’s nose scrunches up, pushing aside his hurt for the anger to rise up in his voice. “That’s fantastic. Because guess what? I don’t need you either.” 

Flynn gapes at Tandred, and for a moment Tandred wants to take back the vile words, but it’s too late. Flynn leaves, turning on his heels and storming off from the hedge maze hideaway out into the bad weather. This is where they spent so much of their youth together, running and playing without a care in the world. 

Little do either of them know that this is their last conversation, and that those are the last words Flynn and Tandred say to each other.


	2. The Ghost of You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Months after their fight, Flynn Fairwind finds himself standing at an empty dock wondering where it all went wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So those tags I put up there about suicidal ideation and alcohol abuse? Pay mind to them.

Flynn Fairwind finds himself standing at the end of a long dock in Boralus’s harbor in the middle of the night, swaying on his feet, barely coherent, barely conscious after a long night of drinking. Before him, the vast sea stares back, still and calm at the midnight hour, with pale moonlight glittering over its surface. For late night strollers and on-lookers, the horizon at night would likely be beautiful, if it were not for the lone, drunken man singing loudly at the end of the dock.

“Oh some say life on the sea would be good for a sailor like he, enjoying blue skies, where gulls fly quite high...” Flynn sings off-key, making up the words to his drunken shanty as he goes. “Hmm, some say it’s better, down where it’s wetter, but the ocean ain’t pretty, it’s actually quite shitty, for a sailor like he! Yes, down below, that’s where all sailors go—down, down, down. Because that’s the fate of a sailor like he—a cold, cold end, at the bottom of the sea.”

Flynn sobers as he sings the final lyrics of his pitiful song. He looks down into the inky black water below, legs wobbly, and he slumps to his knees. Tightly, he clutches the half-empty bottle of ale to his chest, his hands shaking.

After a month of searching Kul Tiras and further out into the Great Sea, the Kul Tiran admiralty, with the aid of the Tidesages, has proclaimed that the fleet is gone, no longer merely missing, but likely deceased. Wives and husbands of Kul Tiran navy soldiers who believe in superstitions have confirmed much the same—they have shriveled, dead sea stalks in their homes.

At sunset today in the keep’s garden, Kul Tiras said goodbye to its sailors and to Tandred Proudmoore.

During the funeral, too many thoughts raced through Flynn’s head. Somehow, he managed to keep his composure in front of the Lord Admiral, dignitaries from other houses, and a rather large gathering of Kul Tiran civilians from all over. Many came to pay their respects for their own loved ones and to grieve with Lord Proudmoore over the loss of her second son who had been beloved among Kul Tiras. Flynn was a family friend, so Katherine allowed him to say a few words about her son. His speech had been short, recalling their history as best mates over the years, how Tandred had always pulled him out of the proverbial fires over the course of his life, and how Tandred was very much his northern star he would have followed to hell and back, had he had the opportunity. But he never will, now.

Tandred’s dead.

Never coming home.

Flynn will never see him again.

_I don’t need you._

That’s what Flynn said to him. Last words he ever spoke to the late Tandred Proudmoore. The irony isn’t lost on him. 

He brings the warm bottle to his lips and drinks the remaining liquor in one fell-swoop. The ale burns down his throat, all too bitter, and he gags after he’s finished, feeling sick and tired. The liquor goes down, but it doesn’t feel good, settling in his stomach like a rock. He looks down at the emptied bottle and then fishes into his coat to pull out a folded letter. He unfolds the paper and reads it once more.

_Tandred,_

_If you find this letter, know that I’m sorry about our fight. I should’ve never made deals with Harlan, I should’ve never taken work for the scum in Freehold. I should’ve listened, maybe you wouldn’t have been so eager to leave, to sail with the fleet on patrol, gods it was just supposed to be patrol..._

_I’m a rotten piece of shit. Worse than barnacles on a bilge. If only I was a better man, I’d be serving in the fleet like you, like an honorable lad, and who wouldn’t want to serve under a captain like you? You’re the finest sailor Kul Tiras has seen since your brother and father, and they’d be so proud of you. The people love you, but suffice to say, no one’s felt your loss harder than me. Your mother, Tide’s bless her, has been strong in the face of this. Me? I’m not so sure I’m going to make it, Tand. I should’ve listened to you. Should’ve heeded your warnings, taken your offers, been grateful instead of an ass. Maybe if I’d taken your advice to heart and not been a piece of shit, maybe you’d still be here._

_Everywhere I look I see your ghost. At the pub, in the gardens, at the harbor, aboard the Middenwake—you’re everywhere, and part of me wishes you’d be an angry ghost, haunting me at night, rattling the bed to make me suffer, but Tand... Quite the opposite, mate. You’re there, smiling at me, and it’s like you’re almost there, like maybe if I reach out, I can touch you. I’ve done that too many a-time. You’re like a mirage, my fingers passing through air._

_I miss you deeply. You were my dearest friend, a true mate. I wonder if we could’ve been more, had I not put our relationship into that horrid state. I still can’t believe you offered your hand in union. I didn’t believe it at the time, didn’t think I was worthy of you. Deep down I know I never will be, but part of me hoped you’d one day feel the way I do about you. Maybe you wouldn’t have been so eager to sail out with the fleet. I wish I had told you. Maybe you’d still be here if I hadn’t pushed you away._

_I don’t know how much more of this I can take. Feels like I’m just a few more bad days away from losing myself to this and diving in after you..._

_Tides bless you, Tandred Proudmoore. Words will never suffice. I wish you were here, mate._

_— Flynn Fairwind_

Flynn rolls up the letter and pushes it through the bottleneck, and then he corks it. He leans over, drops the bottle gently onto the sea’s surface, and then he lets it go, watching it bob up and down with the tide.

Flynn never thought this is where he’d end up—watching a message in a bottle float out to sea with his confessions and regrets written inside. He hopes the ghost of Tandred will find it, read it, and maybe even understand and forgive him.

He meant every word. Even the part about losing himself to this. This morning he woke up to the thought of shoving rocks into his coat and stepping over this very pier to let the sea swallow him whole. Instead, he resisted the urge, rearranged the shattered pieces of his heart, and left the _Middenwake_ needing to be as far away from the ocean as possible.

Now, temptation stares him straight in the face. It would be so easy...

Certainly not painless.

Flynn nearly drowned as a young boy when he fell through thin ice on the lake near Bridgeport. Like many moments in his life, it was thanks to Tandred that he survived that harrowing near-death experience.

It would be fitting, however, to die in the same way Tandred did. Struggling to find purchase above the surface, treading water until exhaustion, then growing weaker and weaker. Collapsing, sinking, drowning further and further into darkness...

“Flynn! Tides, what are you doing here?”

A firm hand yanks him away from the water and shoves him further from the dock’s end. Flynn opens his eyes wearily, and with the help of the moon and lantern in her hand, Taelia stares down at him with grief in her grey eyes.

“This isn’t what he would have wanted.”

Flynn nods, he knows that to be certain as well. He presses a hand to his throbbing forehead and groans.

“I know, Tae, I know.”

“Come on,” Taelia reaches down and helps Flynn onto his feet.

Instead of following after, Flynn immediately grows limp and then curls into Taelia, sobbing softly. Taelia, for her credit, doesn’t wretch or complain about the harsh smell of alcohol Flynn reeks of. She slides her arm around him, holds him close, and lets him cry.

“Believe me, I know how you feel Flynn.” Then, she nudges him carefully and lets him lean on her. “Let’s get you away from here and warmed up, you’re cold as ice.”

All Flynn can do is nod silently. He doesn’t dare look back to the sea, lest he find himself too struck by sorrow to resist any longer. He knows Taelia’s right. Tandred would want him to be strong, to keep steady, and to always hold out for a better tomorrow.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you very much for reading! If you enjoy this work, please leave a comment and let me know what you think! 
> 
> You can find me on twitter [@W0ndrousWendy](https://twitter.com/W0ndrousWendy)


End file.
